Mater Memento Mori Remember Your Mortality
by MusicalCharlatan
Summary: SEQUEL TO PICTOR IGNOTUS:As Iorwen digs herself deeper into the society of Middle Earth, Legolas remains convinced of her death and immerses himself in his kingdom. Yet while they whittle away time, the unseen hand of the Valar continues to manipulate.
1. Notice

NOTICE:

Before anyone panics, this is NOT me notifying everyone that I'm quitting the story or anything like that. I have decided that I have finally reached a spot in the story where a massive turning point has occurred. SO, what I've decided to do is start up a sequel. I just want it to feel like a whole new part of the story has begun. I will make the new chapter right after I've posted this, so chances are you won't be without the first part of the sequel for long if at all. Just go to my profile page and tell me what you think!

-MusicalCharlatan


	2. Remember Your Mortality, Iorwen

_Mater Memento Mori_

Chapter One--Remember Your Mortality, Iorwen

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_Iorwen POV_

Slowly, ever so slowly, my breathing thinned and drew smooth till it was barely more than a timid stream. My movement, slow and calculated, was without awkwardness or abruptness. And my eyes were as focused and unblinking as those of a great cat eyeing the flanks of his prey.

Laying a thick-shafted arrow across my long bow, I ran my finger steadily across the fletched feather at its end and began to draw it back alongside my cheek, muscles straining to pull the heavy bow and keep the movement steady. Leveling my arm, I sighted down the arrow's length and examined my target with a strange challenging type of lust.

The deer here were vastly different from the one I recalled back home--physically at least. Back in Texas, the only deer I'd seen were called White-Tailed Deer. Small-framed, extremely fast, tan-colored creature with long tails that flipped up to reveal downy white fur when they ran. The deer here were larger, slower, but much wilder. It was imperative to be as silent as they when hunting. The oiled hide string of my bow had been replaced many times and was always specially chosen so as to prevent as much noise as possible. The bow itself was made of extremely lithe wood and didn't as much as creak when you bent it in on itself.

Drawing an even strong breath, I once more checked my aim. The animal was upwind of my smell, her velvety nose buried in a clump of brown grass. The wind was slight; not enough to corrupt my arrow's flight, and the sun was nearly set, lending the generous hour of twilight to my hunt. Another steady breath before my finger released, followed by a wave of air as my arrow sliced through the atmosphere. The doe's head swung upright, her nostrils flaring and ears erect, but it was already too late. There followed a sickening thud coupled with an inhuman squeal. She fell, thrashing in the undergrowth, thin legs spasming, attempting to right herself.

Standing, I sheathed the bow in one fluid motion and took off after my arrow's path. Moments later, I arrived at the animal. She'd drug herself a few yards, a trail of dark red blood smearing the earth scarlet behind her. Bloody flanks quivered as I drew nearer, instinct telling her to run even while her body informed her of its failure. Kneeling down next to the creature, I ended her suffering with a swift slash across the jugular. The large, round eyes, which had previously looked at me in terror rolled back slowly in death, and her panting tongued lolled loosely from her mouth.

It was always at this point that a tinge of sorrow would assail me over what I'd done. But I knew that none of the creature would go to waste. She would provide clothing and food for my customers in the village for a while to come.

Stroking the deer's neck for a moment as though in apology, I then reached for my arrow and attempted to draw it out from behind the right shoulder where it had buried itself. Yanking on it for a few moments, I quickly realized that it had gone too deeply, so--using my knife--I instead dug it from the deer and began to wipe away the gore only to realize that the head had broken off within the animal and the shaft had split. Cursing the loss of a good arrow, I put it back in my quiver in the hopes that I might be able to salvage some of it later on. The next hour was spent getting the deer skinned and gutted then prepared for packing. I called my horses to me and, as always, Stevie Ray came quickly trotting up followed by my packhorse, DT, or Double Trouble. In the four years since Salmar had given me Stevie, he'd quickly proved to be a very cunning animal with a good bit more attitude to him than other dumb creatures. Even DT--a very capable horse--couldn't compare to Stevie in his strange intelligence. I'd always had a sneaking suspicion that Salmar had chosen the horse for this reason specifically. If it hadn't been for him, I would have never found any civilization when I'd left the Anduin.

After crossing through Mirkwood, finding a friendly little village on my side of Middle Earth had ended up being nearly as difficult as, say, finding a _strip mall _in Middle Earth. In fact, getting through Mirkwood period had proved more arduous of a task than I'd given it credit. Sure, I'd known I was going to get lost, but I never understood quite the extent of what I was getting into. After wandering in circles in those dark woods for a nearly two weeks, I'd finally managed to emerge on the other side only to realize that I had no idea where the closest food and water was or if there were even any other towns that side of Mirkwood besides the ambiguous Lake Town.

Fortunately, my horse had been more intelligent than I'd been. Stevie instinctively led me to water. It was because of him that I wasn't a bleached skeleton along the outskirts of Greenwood. I'd finally found Lake Town weeks later--mostly by way of chance, or, though I dared not think it, by way of my benefactors--those strange deities who played with me so deviously.

When I got to Lake Town I quickly realized that I needed a skill that made me important to the community and quickly. Fortunately, there was one job in the town I already knew how to do.

The Jeweled Dragon had had need of a worker. I'd waitresses and bartended my way through my first two years of college, so I'd figured it was essentially the same thing. Except that at the Jeweled Dragon it was far more common to see a chair broken over a man's back than it was to see the Lakers versus the Spurs on pay per view. I preferred the Dragon's way personally. I did my job there for a year when--sometime around march--a man showed up in the tavern that fate saw fit to have me serve that night. He'd introduced himself to me as a traveler, a wanderer of Middle Earth in need of a stiff drink. I'd come back with a pint of ale and a stood there over him as he'd practically drained the thing in one gulp.

"You're part of the Dunedain, aren't you?" I'd asked. Without thinking, might I add.

The man's eyes had turned up to me slowly, examining me with a new predatory look in his eyes. "Now, who told you that?" He'd asked after a moment, his mouth twitching in a slight grin as I'd shifted nervously, wishing inwardly that I'd remembered to turn my brain on that morning.

"I…uh…" I looked down at one of his hands that was concealed in his cloak, "Nobody. You just…you have the look of one…is all." I'd stuttered out feebly, hoping he'd just drop the matter and try to grab my ass like all the other men did.

"Truly?" He'd raised one eyebrow at me, his dark brown eyes appraising my every movement. "And just how many of the Dunedain have you met, girl?"

"I…I've never uh…met one, per say…"

The man raised his eyebrow even higher if that were possible. "And what, might I ask, does _per say_ mean?"

I'd resisted the urge to sigh, only glanced behind me to see if the innkeeper, my boss, Tranden, had noticed that I was not currently circling the tavern like I was supposed to be doing. "Listen, um…" I glanced back to him questioningly.

"Shadow. That is what the village knows me as, at any rate."

"Yes, well, Shadow. I don't really have time to talk right now."

His eyes hadn't dropped the mischievous gleam they'd steadily been gaining during our conversation. He'd only given me another grin and nodded in understanding. "Certainly, my lady. Then perhaps we can continue this conversation later on? After you have finished your work?"

My mouth dropped open as I then quickly tried to make him understand that that was not a possibility. He continued without heeding me, "I am staying at this inn, so it should not be difficult to meet back right here. I shall see you then, my lady."

And at that he'd stood up, nodded his head toward me in departure and disappeared through the crowd.

"But--" I trailed off weakly as he left, "You don't even know when…I…get off…"

Sighing, I'd returned to my work and directly after my shift, I'd walked into the tavern to see Shadow right back where he'd been early that evening.

Shaking my head in disbelief and mild amusement, I'd dropped into the chair opposite the curious man, bone weary from work but curious as to what he had to say. "How'd you know when my work ended?" I'd ventured, folding my arms across my chest.

Shadow's trademark grin slid into place, "If I recall correctly, it was _you _who was supposed to answer _my_ question. Not the other way around.

_So, he wants to play coy, does he? Two can play at that game._

Pushing off the table with my foot, I'd leaned my chair back against the wall behind me, looking down my nose at the man across from me. "Who have I met from the Dunedain, correct?"

Shadow nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "It is not often that I am referred to as anything more than a ranger or some common ruffian. Dunedain are not very well known and trusted even less."

I tried not to look uncomfortable at his piercing expression. I decided to continue avoid answering. "So, I was right then? You are a ranger?"

Smirking, Shadow nodded. "I am that. But, tell me, how could some common tavern girl come by such knowledge?"

I failed to conceal my amusement with the irony of the situation. "Though there is more to _your _existence, people condemn you for nothing more than a wanderer. Perhaps you as well have too quickly concluded your own interpretations of _my _existence."

Shadow's smirk turned into a genuine smile as he took out a pipe and began to set it, "Well answered." He set the pipe to his lips and proceeded to release a wisp of smoke that curled its way out of the corner of his mouth, momentarily making him look like he had a twisted mustache before dispersing. "I suppose I did underestimate you. Have you a name to go with this mysterious persona, or am I to assume you are even more anonymous than myself?"

"Assume all you wish," I replied, still grinning cheekily, "but call me Astaldea."

Over the years, I'd easily taken to Valandil's nickname and used it ever since as my alias, knowing that none of the residents of Lake Town would ever see any significance to it. However, I realized belatedly, that to one of the Dunedain it might have more meaning.

Shadow let out another wispy breath of smoke, "Elvish? And so the mystery continues. I could already tell you were not a native of this area. Perhaps you have lived among the elves, then?"

I shook my head, "No. I was only among them a short while, and I doubt I shall ever see them again. That is a dead portion of my life." I said, unconsciously allowing my voice to fall into a hollow tone that betrayed my feelings on the matter.

Shadow, thankfully, chose to ignore my melancholy and did not press the matter. "Strange indeed you are, Astaldea. Why then do I find you working in such a dirt hole as this? Have you no family, no man to provide for such a pretty face?"

Though I felt like I should be offended, the cleverly attached compliment at the end tempered my anger. "I am alone in this world. However, I chose it for myself. All this is of my own making."

"Then it must have been a series of mean events indeed to have led to such a grubby little existence as this inn. Why not marry off to some stupid young farm boy and have a passel of children like all the other girls?"

"You ask many questions, Shadow. Many of which I have no sufficient answer for."

"Forgive me," Shadow replied, looking rather abashed, "It is not my place to ask such things. I am only curious. It seems odd to see a girl of your uniqueness here of all places."

"It's all I can manage…for the moment. I am not yet skilled enough in any other areas to my living by another means."

Shadow drew another long draught of his pipe and exhaled, "What areas do you speak of?"

"Well, I had hoped to travel more, but it's difficult when…" I trailed off, trying to think of a decent way to explain my predicament. "It's just…you see…Where I come from, we do everything differently. And if I were to try and live on my own…by my own instincts and my own hand, I'd have to change everything I already knew. I don't know any proper hunting techniques, any farming, or personal skills like mending my own clothing. Everything back home was…different. Much…much different. But for now this job takes care of me."

Shadow regarded me for a while, so I took the moment to do my own analysis of him. He'd admitted he was a ranger and it was extremely obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. His garb was entirely black and all quite worn from travel. He had very keen brown eyes and brown skin, darkened from constant exposure to the sun. His dark hair was scraggly and curly, but looked as though he'd made some attempt to clean it in the recent past. The look of his face was obviously rugged and it was difficult to tell his age. He could have been anywhere from twenty to forty. His appearance was timeless to some degree; a face of wisdom and undoubtedly youthful passions.

He saw me examining him and quietly removed the pipe from his chapped lips. "I will make you a deal, Astaldea. All these things that you have spoken of, I am trained in. I can teach you how to be self-dependent, but that will mean that you can not stay here. I have ever been a walker of this earth. And if you wish to learn and learn from the best," he grinned egotistically, "then you shall have to trust me. And one more thing…"

I listened apprehensively, knowing that anything a lone male wanderer wanted from a single woman couldn't be good.

"You have to agree to tell me who you really are and where you've come from."

I scoffed, relieved, but also mildly irritated. "I already told you. My name is Ast--"

"Your real name," Shadow interrupted his features so certain of his rightness that I didn't bother t argue, "And where you actually came from."

I sighed and let my chair down to land on all fours. Frowning, I watched Shadow as he continued looking for my reaction. Admittedly, I knew nothing substantial about the man, but yet…

I was quite certain that he was ranger. And from that information alone, I felt it safe to assume that Shadow was a man of his word. If Tolkien was to be believed (and NOBODY had better reason to believe that man than myself) then rangers were good, trustworthy men. Shadow certainly didn't seem trustworthy outwardly, what with his strange garb and taste for ale, but his eyes held no lie in them and I liked to think I was a good judge of character. Also, from this man it could be possible to support myself. I would no longer have to rely on the good will of this town to live. Another piece of me knew that it would be a good idea to get away…further…away. This town was so close…so close to where He lived. Already, I had nearly come into contact with Mirkwood elves who were trading wine with the locals. I'd come to learn that Legolas had in fact returned to his homeland just as I'd hoped, but he hadn't gone back alone. Apparently, he and the Imladris elves all went back to the dark halls of Eryn Lasgalen. It felt good to know that he was where he was supposed to be finally. Back in rule over his people and, most importantly, away from my ruinous presence. I knew that all it would take to ruin what I had so fought to attain--this pathetic existence away from him where I could no longer destroy him--could fall apart so easily if he caught so much as a glimpse of me.

The last time I'd seen him, he'd been talking…painful things. Things so powerful and intense I was afraid to even think of it. He'd almost convinced me. He'd come so damn close, and I couldn't let that happen again. I couldn't let my own selfishness destroy him. Eventually, I was destined for death and if he pledged himself to me he would meet ruin as well. Legolas had to understand that. Of course, he hadn't been able to. He'd been so…determined. The only way to convince him was to do the unthinkable. Die. Before anything worse happened.

_Just remember your mortality, Iorwen. It's the only truth you have left._

Blinking away visions of the elf prince from my mind, I looked back to Shadow's questioning gaze and nodded. "I agree. Give me my independence, and I'll give you my answer, however worthless it may be to you."

"The value of your answer," replied Shadow, "is mine alone to determine. Just you concern yourself with listening well and close to my words. We have a lot of lessons to cover."

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: There it is my dear readers! First chapter of Mater Memento Mori. I hope you are all intrigued enough to keep on reading and reviewing. The most interesting parts are yet to come.

-Musicalcharlatan


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